Five Times John got Elizabeth to Relax
by SomewhereBeyondReality
Summary: A set of small scenes involving our favourite couple and the fun filled mysteries of Atlantis. Sparky! Second story in the 'Atlantis is Home' Series.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: **

He walks into her office unannounced, a bag strapped to his back, a spring in his step and a grin that tells her this visit will bring nothing but trouble on his face. "Ready to go?"

She raises one delicate brow, "I'm not coming offworld with you again John; I remember what happened last time." She winces, she's sure she still has those bruises.

Abruptly his smirk fades as he slips down to sit on the side of her desk (when did she say he was allowed there?) and gives a hurt pout, "c'mon that's not fair Elizabeth," he wheedles (she immediately raises her mental walls because she know what happens when that tone comes out) "I _told _you that was Rodney's fault. If I recall I wasn't the one that insulted the natives by calling them, what was it? Descendants of the tooth fairy?" He returns her glare with the soft puppy eyes.

"And as I recall," she shot back, while her fingers continued to type frantically, "Rodney wasn't the one who was born with an uncontrollable magnetic pull for any trouble within a two galaxy radius." There was only one man who got rightful claim to that label and he was sitting right in front of her. "Besides," she adds before he can protest, "Unless _you _want finish all of these reports I'm stuck in the city, and I didn't think you even had a mission scheduled for today."

His face switches quickly from wounded to plain evil, "I don't but whoever said anything about going out of the city? There's still a whole wing of Atlantis we haven't even explored properly yet. We'd better get a move on don't you think?"

"I'm sure your team can manage to explore it without me John. Now go, I have to get this done."

He sighs, "Elizabeth where in your job contract it does it state that you must work yourself to the bone in order for the city to keep running?"

"John..." There is a warning note in her voice.

"I mean I've read mine and I'm sure it doesn't include 'death from mission files' in it anywhere."

"John Sheppard..." Full name, must be getting serious now.

"And I'm sure it doesn't order you to starve yourself of food AND sleep either."

"Colonel..." Rank too, she'd break any second now.

"I mean its been what? A month since you got the job back, surely it wouldn't hurt to take one day off. Look around the city a bit, maybe have a picnic, I mean wouldn't it be nice if you could SEE this place you're killing yourself for –"

"COLONEL SHEPPARD!"

He cut off as half of the control room's head snapped over to look at them; John gave her an innocent look, "sorry did you say something?"

She groaned and buried her face in her hands, "fine." She snapped as she looks up again, "for just one day. I will come with you to explore the west wing with you. Happy now?"

"Sure," he grinned and hopped up, "I'll meet you there in ten minutes, wear something comfortable."

He jogs out without looking back and Elizabeth can't prevent the smile from sliding across her face as she closes down her laptop. Maybe he was right; she needed a break.

She just had to make sure he never knows that.

X-X

"How many Ancients do you think lived here?" John muses as they dawdle along the dimly lit corridor.

Elizabeth shakes her head, "who knows?" She says softly, "this must have been a great place once, full of people."

Branching out from the control tower the city was split into five massive wings, riots of towering spires and graceful buildings; three of them were dedicated to science research; one for medical, one for military and the third miscellaneous (or at least the 'Earth-born Atlantians' as they had become to call themselves hadn't been able to find any theme to the technology in the last wing). The fourth wing was made up of small, individual living quarters where the ever-growing expedition had begun to spread. And as far as they could tell from their brief skim of it the fifth wing was made of larger more permanent residence, apartments with kitchens, lounges and numerous bedrooms. Quarters that seemed to be designed for...families.

She shakes her head again realising John is watching her, "you'd better not be thinking about work." He warns her.

Elizabeth can't help but laugh, "and what are you going to do if I am?" She challenges, "Last time I checked you couldn't hack into people's minds."

John laughs as well, thinking how a couple of years ago the idea that any creature he'd have the chance of meeting would be able to get into his mind would have had him checking his blood for sign of drugs.

Now he could use up one hand counting all the ones he'd met in the last two months. "Oh, I've got my ways." He says.

Elizabeth rolls her eyes as they move their way through a large apartment containing a sofa, metallic white table and what looked like an Ancient version of a TV.

John seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he ran his fingers along the smooth alien console set deep in the wall opposite the cluster of seats. "Do you think it has Skye?" He asks.

She lets out a snort, "I'm sure you could find out," she answers, "if you could work out how to turn it on."

John's face drops as he looks down at the sea of buttons at the bottom, "oh, yeah." He draws his hands away, "maybe we'll leave it for Rodney to figure out."

"Maybe," she agrees absentmindedly voice fading as she wanders into a room off to the side; the lightning is warm in here; soft yellows and glowing purples, the peace of the little room wraps around her, sheltering her in a cocoon of security. Forgetting where she was for a moment Elizabeth closes her eyes, breathing deeply, inhaling the scent of fragrant lilac and...her mom's cooking? For a moment she was home and little again, sitting up at the table, chanting with her brothers for dinner while her dad shook his head uselessly and her mum dished up a steaming plate of spaghetti and meatballs.

"Elizabeth?" John's voice is soft and probing, his hand on her shoulder as gentle as the lights dancing before her eyes. "You ok?"

She looked up at his smiling eyes; unusually sober, "I'm fine." She tells him, "I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Home, my parents...my brothers."

John nods; she knows he remembers his visit to her home, "it was pretty busy with five of us to look after," she says, unsure of why she's even talking about this, why this room sparked the memories but John listens anyway. "I was the middle child, the 'rose between four thorns' dad called me." Elizabeth rolls her eyes, "Mom couldn't go back to work for years," she goes on, "but she loved looking after us all anyway, though she got sick of all the drives to basketball practice. She was thrilled when I picked up ballet."

John shook his head, another grin spreading across his face, "I still can't imagine you doing ballet," he muttered.

The corners of Elizabeth's lips curved up, "not a lot of people can," she agreed, "I quit when I got to high school and joined the debating team."

"Now that I can imagine."

"Yeah," she runs her fingers through her hair, "dad was pleased with that one. He was a renowned lawyer and was ever so proud of his daughter for following in his footsteps..." She trailed off, staring into the distance, her eyes blurring, fingers entwined. She really had to get a grip on herself; she didn't want to imagine how awkward John must be feeling right now.

"Bet he'd be proud of you now," John whispered, she revolved slowly to face him; he didn't look awkward as she'd expect the defensive and secretive John Sheppard to be in this kind of conversation, he looked a little... wistful?

Somehow the peace of little room or perhaps the unusually soft expression John was wearing that clearly told her the usual barriers were coming down but Elizabeth decided to ask questions that she'd always steered diplomatically clear of. "What about you?" She asked, "did you follow you're parents dreams?"

As clearly as a door his expression closed, face darkening as he shrugged, "hardly," he let out a bitter laugh, "I don't think my father said he was proud of me after the age of four," he ran his hand across his face, "by the time I hit the teens he recoiled in disgust the moment I came into a room." He laughed again, the sound brittle, like shattering glass; cracked and angry. Elizabeth took a hesitant step towards him; surprised at the outburst, she'd been expecting another brush off comment and quick change of subject.

"John..." She started not knowing how the sentence would end.

"You've read my file right?"

She nodded and he turned away from her, placing both hands on either side of the doorframe, leaning his head against the door, his voice muffled as he spoke to the floor. "Still find it hard to believe you have, or rather you did and _still _let me come of this mission." He pauses, his breath ragged and then started speaking again, the words coming out in torrents now. "Well it may not have mentioned it but I walked out of home at eighteen; I got so sick of it, got so fed up of the crap I was getting fed." He lets out a hollow chuckle and Elizabeth can see his hand balling into a fist. "My family wasn't anything like yours, all love and acceptance," the voice was angry now and she was almost glad he wasn't showing his face, "Dave – my brother – became no more than a tool for my dad; a prop for him to hold up to me as an example of everything I wasn't, an outline of all my failures." His other hands curled up as well, knuckles white, silence fell over them, heavy and suffocating. Elizabeth swallows, compassion mingling with sympathy.

"What about your mom?" She asks at last.

John doesn't reply for a long moment, but she sees his muscles relaxing and his fist loosening, "she was the opposite," he said at last, his tone a mere breath but she can still detect the tone of awe and caressing affection rarely heard, "she never hesitated to support me, or tell me how amazing I was." His head drops, "even when I wasn't."

Elizabeth moves forward again, meaning to assure him that he is and always will be but something in her throat chokes her and she has to force it down. "What happened?" She says instead, because its obvious this story doesn't have a happy ending.

John pushes away from the wall, facing her again "she died." Hard and harsh. "When I was fifteen. Cancer."

"I'm so sorry."

He shrugs with feigned nonchalance, "It was a long time ago. We'd been waiting for to come for years," his mouth pulls up in ugly grimace, "when it happened Dad and Dave didn't even react; just started making the funeral arrangements, where it should happen, what colour coffin the body should be placed in. Like mom would even _care._" He spat the last word out in repulsion, "I didn't react either; least not in public; she was the only one I'd ever showed emotion around anyway. I took my cue from them and didn't say anything, just tried to keep my mouth shut."

A shadow of a smile creeps across his face, "I never thought I'd say that again," Elizabeth forces a laugh while he goes on, determined to finish the story now he's begun, "but dad caught me sneaking downstairs with red eyes one morning and sat me down to have a nice 'chat' about how we had to move on and never show weakness and I should stop acting so sulky and immature."

She can barely restrain a gasp and he shakes his head disbelievingly, "it was like it was some teenage drama rather than my birth mothers death. It ended in a shouting match and I was gone three years later. The end." There's no feeling in the two syllables, he snorts, "but hey, at least the advice came in useful."

He can't meet her gaze; Elizabeth knows he doesn't want her to read the shame written there, she lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, "John." Her grip tightens not in anger but comfort, "you're not a failure. You're not weak. No matter what happened."

He doesn't respond but after a second he squeezes her arms and offers her a small grin, she returns in kind. "You remind me of her you know," he says softly.

Elizabeth feels her eyes open wider, "your mom?"

"Yeah."

"How so?" There's a smile in her voice.

He shrugs, "you just do."

He probably expects her to push it more but she just nods in acceptance and after a moment John pulls away, arms folded, a faintly embarrassed expression on his face. She lets her eyes twinkle teasingly, "its something about this room," he excuses himself, "it messes you up."

Elizabeth glances around the room at the low beds, hanging mobiles and inhales the still lingering fragrance. "This must have been the children's room," she muses, "the nursery." She traces her fingers along the usual Atlantis style carvings along the headboard.

"Weird to imagine," John sweeps his gaze up and down, "who'd raise kids here?"

"Atlantis wasn't always a war zone you know," she reminds him, "it was meant to be peaceful."

"Yeah," he waves his hand in front of the chimes, the door sweeps open smoothly, "shall we move on?"

She smiles up and him and heads to the door, "why not?"

X-X

"Are you insane!" Elizabeth splutters some lemonade everywhere and swats him with her hand, John ducks out of the way though not quite quickly enough.

"I think I must be," he says, rubbing his shoulder, "to have said that in front of you. Where did you get such a brutal back hand?"

She laughs, tossing her head back; hair streaming down her shoulders like falling autumn leaves. The sun catches in her eyes making them sparkle even more than usual, their green intensifying. All the tension from the morning is gone though he blushes to remember what took place.

It was the rooms fault, he's sure of it, how the hell was he meant to react with that sickly scent of his mom's perfume not smelt in twenty years clouding his head?

Elizabeth catches his eye and he grins back; he'd been telling the truth when he said she'd reminded him of his mom; they both had the same iron will, the deep compassion, the sense of responsibility, the inner strength, hell even the same sense of humour carefully cloaked with gentle dignity...but most important of all (for him at least) that gift of having faith in others, to believe in them when they didn't believe in themselves.

He realises she's still watching him and flashes a small grin, "bet you're glad you came now," he teases. They're sitting on the edge of one of the west piers, the smooth ocean spread out before them, sparkling off the bright sun you can squint as long and hard as you liked but no rugged outline mars the flawless horizon. Atlantis is an island of tranquillity.

A light breeze sweeps past them; pleasantly cool against his tanned skin. John lays back on the ground, closing his eyes and sighing in contentment, the blanket soft beneath his back, the remains of the picnic spread out around them. He can't help but feel satisfied at the look on Elizabeth's face when he produced their lunch from his heavy backpack. Grapes, chips, sandwiches (ham for her, turkey for him), oranges, biscuits, lemonade (they are still on duty after all) and the final touch of glory; two pieces of (slightly squashed admittedly) chocolate cake freshly stolen from the mess hall. John had become wary of her craving for sugar.

Suddenly John feels a slight dripping on his face stickiness running into his nose and mouth. Eyes springing open, he snaps up to meet Elizabeth's innocent face and mischievous eyes, guiltily holding her almost empty cup. "I didn't think it was polite to fall asleep on a guest." She explains.

His gaze narrows in retaliation, "you really shouldn't have done that," he warns,

Her eyebrow lifts "and why not?"

Quick as lightning John plunges his hand into the rucksack pulling out the old bottle of water, the smile slides off Elizabeth's face just as fast. "You wouldn't."

He smirks, "wouldn't I?"

The next second the whole of Atlantis hears a piercing scream echoing around Atlantis's spires as Colonel John Sheppard squirted Doctor Elizabeth Weir with a blast of icy cold water.

Elizabeth ducks and rolls over, scooting over to the cover of the buildings, hair drenched, she shakes it out droplets flying everywhere. "That," she yells from her haven, "was a very stupid thing to do Colonel!"

He approaches, bottle aloof, "oh yeah?" He challenges.

"Yeah," she agrees, "because I have a weapon of my own." He gapes as she brandishes another bottle from behind her back and tries to leap away but not before she tips almost the entire contents over his head.

Within seconds the two leaders of Atlantis are chasing each other around the balcony, squirting water at each other mercilessly and barely able to restrain the uncontrollable laughter.

At last John collapses on the ground, "ok," he gasps from his knees, one hand feebly raised, "I give up, I surrender, you win!"

Elizabeth lets out another peal of giggles and sinks down beside him, "I'll show mercy...this time."

"You're very kind," he throws his arms over his eyes, shading them from the sun. "Where'd you learn to fight so well?"

"I just told you I had four brothers right?"

"Ah." That explains that. They rest in silence for a moment before Elizabeth gasps and leaps to her feet.

"What time is it!"

John groans, too lazy to look at his watch. "Early. Why?" He hears the sounds of bags beings zipped up and opens his eyes, "what are you doing?"

"I need to get back."

"Elizabeth." He sits up now, "oh no you don't."

"John, I have to get back to work, its hours later than I planned." She sends him a disapproving look as if this is his fault. He supposes that technically it is.

"I don't care what time it is," he says, "you promised me you'd have a day off and that's what you're going to have."

She's not listening as usual, just staring down at her sopping wet clothes, "oh no."

"Elizabeth!"

"I can't go up there like this," she complains, "I'm meant to be their commander, dammit John I'm meant to be dignified!"

"Well you're not," he replies seeing a ray of light in his otherwise failing argument, "so you may as well stay right here seeing as you're going to need my help to get yourself smuggled in without anyone seeing you."

She puts her hands on her hips and stares him down, eyes flashing and John instinctively braces himself for the stinging, smart-arse comment that he knows is coming his way. However to his surprise she closes her mouth and flops down beside him. "Fine, you win this one." Her grumpy expression contrasts with her gracious statement.

John nods and lies back again, grinning "good, then lie back, relax and sunbathe."

"I hate sunbathing."

He frowns in confusion, "really?" he says surprised, "I thought all women loved it?"

"*Most*women do John," she corrects him with the air of a weary school teacher, "but I don't."

"Right. Well entertain yourself then."

She sighs melodramatically and crosses her legs, leaning back against the wall; head tilted back, eyes closed. They snap open again a moment later as she feels his gaze resting on her. "What?"

John shakes his head, "nothing, it's just weird...seeing you relax." She sends him an icy glare, "but good!" He assures her quickly, "it's good. In fact..." His smirk widens as a thought occurs to him, "I'm going to make sure it happens again."

She cocks her head on one side, a curious look on her face, "you will?"

"Yep," He clasps his hands behind his head, "from now on the first day of every month I am going to force you to take off and get you to relax."

He paused, silence falling for a long moment. Elizabeth twines her fingers together looking thoughtful, John waits. "Okay," she says at last, rolling her eyes, "one day. Once a month. Surprise me."

The corners of his mouth pulls up, "you're on."

"That's it." She adds sternly, "one day a month. Don't get anymore ideas."

"I've got you," he promises, "one day." He closes his eyes again and can distinctively here Elizabeth mutter something about what a pushover she must be, John laughs softly; he can't wait to see what next month will bring.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

The next month Elizabeth doesn't even make it to her office, she's on the way to the mess to grab an early cup of coffee when two pairs of hands come out from behind the corner and grab her, holding her wrists in as steel grasp. "And where do you think you're going?"

She peers through the darkness of the hallway at his shadowy profile. "The mess." She replies with as much dignity as she can muster being held prisoner. "To get some coffee. It's early."

"I know," John growls, "so what are you doing here? It's _meant _to be your day off." He pauses, "or have you forgotten?"

Elizabeth swears inwardly, she _had _forgotten, its been hectic recently and John's promise (or threat depending how you looked at it) completely slipped her mind. "Of course not," she replies evenly.

His eyes narrow staring at her, she glares defiantly back covering up her forgetfulness , while another part of her mind wanders musingly what he's got in store for her this month and she can't quite control the spark of childlike excitement from igniting.

At last he releases her, "fine," even in the lack of light she can see the twinkle in his dark eyes, "now come with me to the jumper bay, I already got your coffee."

Propelled by the promise of coffee they speed off and Elizabeth is surprised when she reaches their destination to find the rest of the team shuffling in (well Rodney was shuffling, Ronon was striding twirling his gun and Teyla was already sitting there alert and ready), "I'm not the only one you've dragged out then?" Elizabeth said, arching one brow.

John just gave a smirk and motioned her into the seat next to him, she rolls her eyes.

"Where are we going anyway?" She asked as the scene in front of her changed from the dull jumper bay to dazzling blue sky.

John glances over at her; barely concentrating on steering – if only driving a car was so effortless – "it meant to be a surprise." He winces at her dark look. "Um...the mainland."

"Why? What's happening?"

"It is – how do you say it?" This time its Teyla's soft voice that answers and Elizabeth twists round to listen. "The new year for us; the festival of new birth. It is a great occasion for my people; we all prepare food and as night falls we light fires and ask the ancestors to bless and watch over us for another season."

She smiles softly and Elizabeth smiles back, sharing solidarity for a short moment, "that sounds nice."

X-X

Hours later Elizabeth has sweat beading her forehead, aching arms and is unable to remember the last time she felt this content, this satisfied and this happy. Nor did she remember that hanging lanterns from trees could be so exhausting; beside her Rodney's panting frantically.

"Hey Elizabeth." She turns to see John behind her, holding two cup of Athosian 'lemonade' as the Atlantians had nicknamed it, she eyes it curiously and he grins. "You know this is meant to be your break right, I thought you were meant to be taking it easy."

She raises one eyebrow, "oh yes, because chopping all that firewood is such an easy job."

He shrugs, holding up his hands, "no splinters yet." Like he'd admit it if he did, "Now are you going to drink this or not?"

"I suppose it never occurred to you to offer me any," Rodney's snappy voice floated towards them, "seeing as I am the one on the brink of cardiac-rest here!"

Elizabeth's gaze goes from the liquid in John's hand to the red face accompanying Rodney's whining, she rolls hers eyes and passes it to him, "I'll go and get some more."

"What did you do that for?" John's jogging after her, "You're too nice 'Lizabeth that was meant to be for you."

She laughs softly, "I think the effort of walking to get some more is less strenuous than listening to Rodney's complaining while I drank the other cup."

He chuckles and offers her his own half-drunk cup, she only hesitates briefly before the dryness of her throat wins the inward battle and she takes a sip, her gaze locking with his over the rim, his hand still curled around the small glass. They stand there for a long moment, gentle wind ruffling her, the sounds of Athosians and other visiting Atlantians alike fading in the background.

"Elizabeth!" Teyla's voice whips around them, John speedily pulls his hand away and Elizabeth snaps back into reality.

"Teyla? Is there something I need to do?"

Her friend shakes her head, "no, the opposite in fact," her head dips, a smile forming across her face, "I think the preparations are almost complete. It is time for you to ready yourself."

A frown creases Elizabeth's forehead, her intuition prickling at her words. "I'm sorry, I think I've lost you. Ready myself?" There's a questioning, incredulous edge to her voice, Teyla doesn't seem to notice.

"Of course!" She laughs, grasping Elizabeth's hand, "come I already have an outfit prepared for you." Her eyes take a mischievous glint, "You will look stunning."

"Teyla..." Even as she protests Elizabeth has a feeling it will be useless, "I wasn't prepared to dress up today, I thought the Athosians valued...casual celebrations."

Teyla doesn't falter, "oh we do but you cannot truly partake in the Festival of New Birth donned in the clothing of your planet," she halts, staring her in the eye, "this is a great honour, it is a symbol that you have truly become part of our people." Oh, she couldn't be pulling the culture card; this wasn't fair; it was meant to be a relaxing day. "You cannot refuse; Jennifer is already there."

Elizabeth sighed resignation overcoming her reluctance, "Lets go." Teyla's eyes light up in triumph and she drags her over to the tent.

Three hours seems a little extreme simply to prepare herself but Elizabeth has to admit its not as bad as she expected, well not even bad at all, in fact the final effect is quite...nice.

The outfit is identical to Teyla's; no shoes, a simple long skirt with slits up either side and sleeveless, close fitting top with a scooping neckline. The only difference is the colour; Teyla wears bright purple setting off her tanned shading whereas Elizabeth's skirt is black and the top a deep green to suit her ivory skin and eyes. Another young Athosian girl – Melinda – has gathered half of Elizabeth's curling hair back and pinned it back in a plait the rest falling loose down her shoulders.

"You look beautiful," Teyla says, standing next to her, Elizabeth can hear the sincerity in her voice, "come, we had better go they will be waiting."

The two of them duck out of the tent and Elizabeth can't help but gasp at the sight before her; twilight has fallen now and the lanterns hang in the trees candle points in the darkness, tables of food are set out around every side, Athosian ale flowing freely, waves are washing up on the pale golden sand, a great roaring fire is in the centre of the camp the flames crackling and dancing; illuminating the people milling about; all dressed in the traditional garb. She can see the members of the expedition – some from the original team all those years ago – mingling with the travellers from Pegasus. A warm glow of pride alights in Elizabeth as she looks around at them, united, safe and happy. She spies John with Amelia and Ronon and weaves her way towards them.

X-X

"Hey," a clear voice floats towards him and John spins around to see Elizabeth behind him, her slim figure unusually emphasised by the Athosian gown Teyla had obviously forced her in and half her hairs pinned up. She's staring at him, and he realises he hasn't replied.

"Um...hi?" Why does he sound so nervous? "What took you so long?"

She laughs, "you've obviously never encountered a woman getting ready for a party before," she teases, "I thought you were meant to be a flyboy."

She just couldn't have called him that, Rodney, his team, the scientists, the marines – sure but not her, not Elizabeth. "I'm wounded you think of little of me," he replies, giving her the aforesaid flyboy grin.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'll try to be more sensitive towards your poor, delicate feelings next time," she retorted, cementing her position on the charts as the only women who remained unaffected by his puppy eyes. He shook his head and they headed towards the food.

It was going to be a good night.

He's right; The Athosians could give the firework guys at Big Ben a run for their money; the food never seemed to run out, the lanterns didn't dim all night and a strange assortment of volleyball, rugby, dancing and tag started on the beach (John found himself cast out when he realised you weren't just meant to run with the ball but do a sort of side-ways hopscotch before throwing it in the basket). Still at least he did better than Ronon; the Satedan warrior may be terrifying in battle but twirling around in circles with his arms above his head – not so much, John had a feeling Jinto had set that one up on purpose. He made a mental note to warn the Athosian boy to guard his life from now on.

The women joined in too; Jennifer and Teyla beating Kanaan and Rodney three rounds in a row and Elizabeth must have played dodge ball at some point because (unexplainably, impossibly) she manages to get from one end of the beach to the other without a single player touching her.

Now though, they're all gathered around the fire, eyes fixed on the horizon, waiting for the sun to rise. John was swaying on his feet, eyes and head throbbing in that familiar sense that told him he'd just pulled another all-nighter, around him everyone looked equally crumpled; Elizabeth seemed to be holding up best; she should be with all the experience of late night reports. She caught his gaze and smiled, "look," she whispers softly, nodding towards the rippling ocean.

He turns just as the sun slipped over the smooth blue line slashing across the landscape; the light blinded them for a minute, filling the pink sky with golden rays. Around him, lead by Teyla, Kanaan and Halling the people began to sing; the old Athosian verses filling the air.

John opens his mouth as he and Elizabeth joined the song, her clear voice mingling with the others, finally the notes died out, he shades his eyes and smiles contently in the silence.

It was a new year.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: **

She is not excited. She is not excited.

She's NOT.

Just like she's not sitting in the Mess Hall (up over an hour later than usual) waiting for a certain Colonel John Sheppard to come and find her and reveal this month's method of relaxation.

Of course she wasn't excited, okay maybe she was curious...just a little bit, interest maybe, intrigued but not excited.

"Elizabeth!" She gives a jump and springs to her feet as John's voice hisses across the room. She glances around quickly and catches sight of his head poking round the door a furtive expression on his face. "Come on!" He gestures frantically and unable to stop herself she shoves her chair and (not runs, she doesn't run) but walks briskly across the room.

She can sense his barely suppressed eagerness in an instant and fights to keep a firm hold on her own dignity, "Colonel? What is it?"

He isn't so concerned, "Come on Elizabeth!" He sprints off down the passage. Still reeling from the 'shut up', who was the last person to tell her that? What else is she meant to but follow?

She's running now she can't deny that anymore, "John!" She almost slips as they veer around a corner, "what are we DOING?"

He grins, "You'll see, now hurry!" He speeds up and Elizabeth streaks after him; the enthusiasm is infectious.

She follows him up a steep set of stairs and then skids to a halt as he dived through a small door at the top, it shuts smoothly shut in her face and won't open again. "John?" She calls out, "John?" No answer, Elizabeth folds her arms, "John!" The tone is louder now; irritated. She grits her teeth, "I don't know what you think you're doing," she yells saying goodbye to dignity, "but may I remind I am an extremely busy woman and have about one hundred and one other things I should be doing right now!" Her voice fades and silence takes its place. "I'll leave," she warns, "don't think I won't."

More silence.

"Fine then," she snaps, hands on hips, "bye, bye." Huffing she turns away and begins to make her way back down the stairs.

"Hi Elizabeth." She revolves slowly back around, artificial scowl in place.

"Finally, where the hell did you...?" She trails off, mouth hanging open, "um, John?" She says weakly. "What – what is that?"

John grins, sitting back comfortably in the red and shiny Ancient version of a bumper car, glinting in the light.

There was just one small difference:

It's floating in mid-air.

Elizabeth gulps and leans against a wall, John's smirk widens, "cool huh? Rodney unearthed them in an old lab, didn't think we'd have it ready in time, been working through the night."

She just nods mutely, Wraith, Replicators, Genii, Gou'ald – she can take them on without batting an eye but a real life hover craft...its so ridiculous its laughable. John doesn't seem to notice, "We've only got three up and running so far, all different colours," he gives her a cheeky look, "I chose red seeing as you seem so attached to the colour." She suddenly finds her tongue.

"And the colour every little boy chooses for his dream sports car," she retorts, "don't you use me as an excuse."

He chuckles, "you're a sharp woman Elizabeth, now come on," he pats the seat next to him, "these are meant to sit two." The cart floats slowly down to ground level and the door springs open. "Step on in." Unable to resist, she does so.

"So do you need the Ancient gene to pilot them?" She asks as they streak off, hair streaming back, he shakes his head.

"No, anyone can pilot it." They skim a corner, hurling on the side, Elizabeth gives a yelp, gripping the sides to stop herself getting thrown out, John just laughs.

"In that case," she says, straightening up and the cart rights itself, "can I drive? I think it would have a positive effect on both our life expectancies." John gives her a challenging look, her lips quirk as she stares back.

"Ok then," he says after a moment, "lets see if you can manage her."

With some negotiating they managed to swop seats and Elizabeth settles her hands on the controls, "just don't go down to the Mess Hall or Control Room," he warns, "we don't want people to find out about these; then we'll never get a turn."

"There's also the small matter of my authority," Elizabeth pointed out, "which might diminish a bit if my staff see me zooming around, squealing in a bumper car." 

"Hover Cart," he corrected, "you don't think I'd let Rodney name it do you?"

"You get the point; I'm still surprised there was no result from that water fight."

He snorts, "People are far less suspicious than you imagine 'Lizabeth. Now are you going to get moving or not?"

Her eyes narrow and she slams her feet down on the peddle so fast she's sure – she hopes – he got whiplash.

Driving is a lot easier than she imagined, the cart is light and you only have to turn the lever slightly to turn. She twists and angles it until they are bunny hopping, dipping up and down and her stomach has been lost somewhere far behind, John's silence and lack of smart arse comments are obviously a sign of respect.

Just as soar up another staircase she's aware of a similar whooshing sound from behind her and cranes around to see Rodney in a blue cart bulldozing towards them. "I've got you now Sheppard!" He yells furiously.

"Sure Rodney, if you can get that old dump of yours to move any faster!" John shouts back; he leans forward and glances at Elizabeth, expression worried, "can we go any faster?" He asks in a low voice.

"We can try." As she bends the lever ahead her grip slips and accidently presses one of the small buttons down the side, instantly two jets of hot steam shoot out behind them enveloping Rodney in a cloud of fog.

"Sheppard!" His muffled roar is lost and John's hunches over, unable to catch his breath through the hysterical laughter wracking his frame.

"I could hug you right now," he says seriously when he finally regains his composure. "How did you do that?" She can read the pride and awe in his gaze.

"It was an accident!" She says truthfully, "but;" she's sure her expression is just as evil as his now, "we can find out."

X-X

The Ancients may have been a bunch of arrogant jerks that made few good screw ups in their time but John has to admit; they must have had a sense of humour as well.

The six of them (his team, Elizabeth and Jennifer) hardly stop all day; they discover that in addition to the jets of steam the carts can release, you can also get 'super speed', invisibility and force shields. Elizabeth was right; it's every little boys dream.

Races inside along the corridors soon don't seem to be enough and they're skimming across the pools outside in the open air, spinning around in pirouettes and loop the loops and attempting to balance on one foot while standing on the seat.

Apart from an alleged broken toe from Rodney and a couple of bruises on Ronon and Teyla's part there aren't any injuries and – more importantly – the carts all stay in one piece.

Eventually though, all good things come to an end and Elizabeth as usual pulls out first, claiming she had to get an early night, (though that thought never seemed to occur to her when she up at two in the morning finishing reports). Still John – as he was in control of a cart at that time – offers to drop her back at her quarters.

She gets out gracefully; landing lightly on the ground and waving open the door, "thank you," she says, "I did have fun today."

John grins; memories of dropping girls back at their doors after a date floating inexplicably back into his mind, "well that was the point," he replies, the corner of his mouth curving up.

"Good," she steps inside the threshold, throwing one last comment over her shoulder, "all I can say is, you'll have a hard time beating it next month."

He's still smirking as he drives off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: **

He's late.

Okay, there'd never been any official time but he was still late. If there was one thing he knew about Elizabeth after all this time it was that she valued punctuality.

And she could get scary when it wasn't kept. Roman lions in the arena come to mind.

Another thought keeps niggling at John though; worse than the vision of an antagonized Doctor Weir and thats the image of a hurt Elizabeth. One that thinks he's forgotten about their agreement.

Not that she'd ever show it, or even admit she's enjoys these monthly escapes, she's still claiming she's only coming under forced duress but he knows.

He knows from the dancing lights in her eyes when he makes her laugh (accomplishment that means more than all of his badges awarded by toffee nose Generals throughout his career).

He knows from her slow lope so different from her usual efficient stride.

He knows from the unusually smooth skin on her forehead uncreased by frowns of stress and worry.

And he knows that none of that going to happen if he doesn't find her soon.

Typically of course she's in the last place he'd think to look; though their – THE balcony should have been the most obvious place.

"Hi," his voice is soft.

She turns from her spot by the railing, he notes her change of clothes; she's prepared this time – out of uniform for once. "Hey," her tone is equally quiet, "you didn't forget."

He smiles, "me? Forget? You wound me 'Lizabeth."

She raises one brow, "so what have you got planned this month?"

X-X

Sometimes, in an (unusually) quiet moment between life threatening situations and death imposing crisis's Elizabeth muses about the possibility that one day – far, far into the future they may unlock all the secret Atlantis, that the Ancients will no longer be a mystery but simple fact. At these times an old saying drifts back 'once the mystery's over – so is the magic.'

Oh, she's not vain or conceited enough to think she'll be the one to do it, or she'll even be alive to see the end of the adventure she started but just occasionally the thought strikes her and she can't help but mourn over the possibility that one day Atlantis will cease to be the marvel it is and be ordinary – dull – normal.

And then discoveries like this come along and Elizabeth's certain that she'll never – no one will ever dig to the bottom of the pile of treasures Atlantis offers.

Because some of the Puddle Jumpers aren't just Jumpers, they don't just fly through the air they...float...on water.

They're boats.

"How could we not have known this before?" She asks incredulous, "how many times have teams taken these out? I mean Rodney sunk it one of them!"

"Its only a select few," John calls back, from the front of the Jumper, "I think the Ancients were experimenting."

"Mmm," Elizabeth can't summon up the energy to reply; the back Jumper bay door is open and spread out flat against the water, sending up small froths of water at the edge.

She's sitting on the edge of it; legs dipping in the cool water, hands skimming the waves, sunlight dancing off the blue and green ripples. It's warm enough to have taken off her jacket but a gentle breeze keeps her from boiling. She can hear John chuckle from inside, she rolls her eyes.

"You'd better have brought food," she called, "you're doing well so far but seriously – have you seen me when I'm hungry?"

"I think I've had the misfortune to."

She grits her teeth, eye narrowing, "don't make me spray you with water again," she warns, "this time I have the advantage."

It was true to. He had to stay in his seat and drive; otherwise they'd both be going for an unwelcome swim whereas she had the whole ocean out there at her fingertips. She can see he's about to answer when the Jumper console gives a small beep, a flashing dot appearing on the screen; John turns back; his attention diverted.

"We're here," he calls back after a second.

Old feuds forgotten Elizabeth's by his side in a second, "here? There's more than just a personal boat ride?"

His grin could make many stronger woman melt at his feet in a mushy puddle of goo. "How about your own personal island?" She can barely summon the will to raise an eyebrow, "we can call it Isle Elizabeth."

Sure enough, a large strip of land appears in front of them, smooth green hills topped with dark woods rising high from the sandy beach. The low cliffs are rocky and she can see small caves, gnarled trees and tidal pools sheltered under them.

Suddenly her eyes narrow as she catches sight of six figures standing in the cove they are now gliding into; all waving eagerly. Two of them – the tanned pair – are holding a baby between them; another is slapping sunscreen onto his paler skin, a blonde figure sets out a picnic blanket, whilst the tallest silhouette is attempting to set up the sun umbrella to shade the food.

"I'm not dressed for this." Of all the things that Elizabeth expected to hear emerging from her lips at this moment that was the last one on the list. From John's face he thought the same, but the cocky smirk for more than an instant.

"Teyla's already packed some cooler clothes and swim stuff," his eyes twinkle, "and the book you're currently reading – assuming of course that was the one on your bedside table?"

"You've been in my room." She really should sound angrier, why doesn't she sound angrier?

"Yep." No remorse there. They've stopped the Jumper and he grabs a three bags from above the back seat, tossing one to her, "now get changed, you'll be much more comfortable."

As much as she hates to admit it, he is right; after she changes into board shorts and a singlet she can't remember feeling this comfortable or at ease or relaxed in a very, very long time.

They're sprawled out on the beach, stomachs swelling from the amount of food they've just consumed, she closes her eyes too lazy even to read, letting Rodney's panicked moans about how much radiation he could have just suffered fade into the background.

She doesn't know how long she's been lying there until she feels a jab in her ribs, her eyes snap open, scowl instantly plastered in place to see John dressed in nothing more than swimming trunks looming above her. She wants to bang her head on the – now feeling a lot firmer sand – and groan, does this guy ever give it a rest?

"I thought you didn't like sunbathing."

"I'm not." Now she's on defence, "I've been lying here for what? Five minutes?"

He glances at the sun, (like he can actually tell the time that way) "about an hour actually."

"What?" Her eyes open wider, hand shading her gaze, "it can't be."

"''Fraid so," he laughs, "c'mon its okay, how many times do I have tell you? Its ok to take a break sometimes."

"So why did you wake me up then?"

He wiggles his eyebrows, "do you swim?"

Now Elizabeth sits up; the others are already there – including Rodney – their laughs drifting towards her; Teyla and Kanaan are evidently trying to teach Torren how to swim. She shakes her head fondly.

"You can't swim?" He sounds perplexed and she realises she hasn't answered.

"I can swim." She's stung; of course she can swim, she's trained as an international diplomat, learnt five languages, travelled across galaxies, been captured by a group of evil robots, commanded a base of galactic travel, met presidents, negotiated with aliens, discovered a lost mythical city and survived in a house with four male teenagers for over ten years.

How can he possibly think she can't swim?

"Of course I can swim!" She sits up properly now and leaps to her feet, yanking her hair back into a ponytail and marching towards the waves. "I'm insulted."

She strides into the waves, expecting pleasantly cool water to ripple across her feet, smooth and soothing – what she experiences is icy cold knives attacking her skin, paralysing pain shooting up her legs. She gasps and stops, knee deep in the frigid ocean, goose bumps spreading across her exposed skin.

"What?" John mocks plunging in and floating in front of her, a huge grin almost splitting his face in half seemingly unaffected by the cold (how its possible she has no idea). "Not tough enough to take it?"

She gazes back at him with as much dignity as she can muster with chattering teeth, "I'm just taking it slowly," she retorts, "enjoying the experience and all of that, isn't that what you've been telling me to do?" She gets cold easily at the best of time; result of bad blood circulation and never eating properly and right now all she wants to do is run out of deceptive sea and spread out on the warm sand again.

"Sure 'Lizabeth'," he replies lazily, "whatever you say." The smirk returns with even more power and she grits her teeth, rubbing her bare arms as she stares out to watch Teyla and Kanaan playing with a chuckling Torren in the shallows nearby.

He moves so fast she doesn't see it coming. In one instance he's splashing about a couple of metres away from her and the next moment his arms are around her waist, lifting her squealing – yes squealing; talk about loss of authority, when was the last time after she turned ten that she squealed? And tosses her into the deep end with perfect ease.

She sinks far enough down to lose sight of the top and swims back to the surface, fuelled by fury.

"JOHN SHEPPARD!" Her scream echoes around the cove as she catches sights of him, standing waist deep, laughing hysterically.

"That was pay back for the water fight," he calls, still chuckling.

The smirk fades as she storms towards him, pushing off on the sandy bottom to grasp his legs, "Elizab –" His yell cuts off as she yanks him under, dunking him hard.

Her hold on him loosens and she paddles frantically back to the shore, feet shifting on the squidgy sand, grains squeezing between her toes trying to get out of range before he surfaces again. She's almost reached the beach when he scoops her up again. "Got you!" His triumphant voice is warm in her ear and she squirms uselessly.

"Let me go!" She demands, beating her fists on his shoulder. His grasp slips and she kicks away, lashing out before a hand grasps her wrist and tightens, pulling her towards him again. Inconceivably her resistance fades, letting him pull her in closer so she's cradled against his warm chest (she's not cold anymore is an incoherent observation), gazing up into his laughing eyes, movements slowing so they're rocking gently together in the lapping water; one of his hands still fastened around her wrist the other creeping back to the small of her back – steady and strong. Her breathing quietens.

"Alright," she says, her voice catching (though she has not idea why) "you've got me." The sun beats strongly down on them, heating their burning skin.

"Yes I have." His tone is more intense than she expected as is the expression in his eyes; no longer laughing but something else she can't quite read.

Silence falls again and for the life of her she can't think of anything else to say. Then, like a light switch the sun slips behind a cloud and all of the warmth of the day is gone, goose bumps reappear and Elizabeth shivers, suddenly realising she's standing chest deep in water, half dressed, holding hands in a locked embrace with her second command.

She pulls away again and this time John lets her, "sorry." He mutters, looking as awkward as she feels,

"Its fine," her tone is stilted and glances down, tendrils of hair shading her eyes; he coughs uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck.

How could the mood change so quickly– the laughing friends of a moment ago have vanished leaving a formal doctor and colonel in their place.

The silence stretched out longer and longer until Elizabeth can't take it anymore.

"Did you hear about Melinda and Doctor Joseph?" She blurts the question unthinkingly, her only need to break the uncomfortable quiet. John looks confused but takes the cue.

"Yeah, Teyla told me – they're engaged. Everyone's been talking about it."

Elizabeth nods, beginning to relax and allowing her suddenly tense muscles to unwind "It's been spreading round the city like wildfire: an Athosian-Earth marriage, no wonder people are excited."

John shrugs, stretching his arms out and running fingers though his hair. "'Been coming for a while now, wasn't he one of the original expedition team?"

"Yes," she pushes her feet off the sandy bottom and floats onto her back, staring up at the sky, "they started dating in the second year." She sighs, the feeling of weightless not echoed in her crowded mind, "I really don't want to know how the powers that be on Earth are going to react." She makes contact with the ground again.

John snorts, now doing a lazy stroke back towards the shore "time they dealt with it; they have to accept that we were isolated in a whole galaxy for five years. Atlantis becomes more than just your job; it's...home as well." He grins at her and she smiles back. "Now we just have to wait till the kids come along."

She laughs loud out at that, "I don't even want to think about it."

Still chuckling they head back to the beach; the awkwardness gone like it never existed at all.


	5. Chapter 5

"Is the blindfold really necessary John?" Even muffled he can detect the irritated note in Elizabeth's tone.

His hands tighten over her shoulders, guiding her around another corner "Well we can't have you peeking and ruining the surprise, can we?"

She groans, "I hate surprises."

He grins, "I know. You're a control freak."

Her attempt to swat him fails as she can't actually see where her hand's directed; she can however hear his chuckle and grits her teeth. This gets worse every month.

"Ok, here!" He says a couple of turns later, "here we are!" With a dramatic whip and flourish he pulls off the blindfold to reveal...

His quarters.

Elizabeth's eyebrows pull up in a perplexed look, "John?" She asks without turning from the smooth, metallic door, "is there something you'd like to tell me?"

His smirk doesn't waver for a moment, "okay, be like that," he shrugs, waving his hand in front of the chimes, "I just want to see you so smug in a second..."

The doors slide open as a shiny black nose sniffs its way from under John's bed, Elizabeth forehead furrows, head on one side as she stares at it, "John is that...?"

Triggered by her voice the nose snaps upwards, slithering out to reveal a pair of big brown eyes, floppy ears, golden coat (covered in fluff – does that man ever clean the room?) and crazily, wagging tail, Elizabeth freezes.

"Sedge?" She whispers, "you..." Suddenly she seems to be struggling for words, "...can't be here."

However her pet feels reassuringly real as she slams against her legs, knocking her to the ground and enthusiastically licking every portion of her exposed face.

"Sedge!" She's got her voice back now and the movement of her body; shoving the furry mass away, "get off!" She eventually fends her off and sits up, blowing the fluff out of her eyes, gaze locking with John's, ignoring his twitching lips.

"Ok you've got me," she admits, "How did you manage this one?"

He shrugs modestly, "easy when you know the right people have the right connections..." He pauses, "of course not all of the Powers that Be are quite aware that we just shipped a truckload full of animals across the galaxy." He explains before Elizabeth even has the chance to raise one brow.

"Oh don't think you're the only one, turns out almost half of Atlantis has some beloved thing they wanted to bring over here; this place is going to be teeming in a couple of hours. The rest are being unloaded now."

She just nods, sinking down on his bed in a daze, "I still don't understand how you managed to do this John," she strokes the blissful Sedge absentmindedly, "I mean this is a military base, a research facility, its a working environment– not to mention an ancient city of alien technology that could be the most valuable discovery earth ever makes! How did Caldwell even let the animals onto the ship?"

John sits down beside her, close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off his body. "Caldwell knows that Atlantis is more than just a job to the teams here Elizabeth," his voice is uncharacteristically serious.

"It's like what we talked about last month; this has become home for so many people. Even Woolsey knew that, he let this happen." She can't quite keep the incredulous look off her face at that, "and General O'Neill has been around long enough to know how these things work." His face unable to stay serious for long, breaks into another grin, "don't worry I've got all the bases covered." He stands up and holds out his hand, "c'mon, let's take this one for a walk."

Sedge gives an excited bark at the familiar word and scampers over to scratch at the door, Elizabeth laughs, "why not?" They left together, Sedge padding at their heels.

Yes, she had to concede; John Sheppard had finally made her relax.


End file.
